Just One Thing
by tigerpawpad
Summary: Cas asks the Winchesters for help, but gets more than he asked for. Dean/Cas


"A hunter's life is short, Sammy, why not indulge in some heavenly meat?" Dean winked at Sammy across the booth and dug his face into a giant bacon cheese burger. Sammy was watching him over his bowl with a skeptical look and dipped a hunk of bread into his thick stew.

"Dammit! Cas!" Dean hissed, "we're in a public place!" Sam looked to his left and jumped, finding a rumpled suit and familiar tan trench-coat sitting where nothing was one moment before.

"Jeez, Cas, couldn't you have zapped on Dean's side?" Sammy said, annoyed.

"I've become quite adept at locating you," Cas peered at Dean, a small smile on his wide lips, "and no, Sam, this is the only spot the hostess would not be startled upon my sudden appearance in her field of vision," Cas spoke sternly, eyes shimmering bright blue and dark hair playfully mussed. Dean couldn't look away from that look.

"So Cas, why are you here? Did you hear Dean's call?" Sam snickered.

"What call?" Cas looked at Sam with a concerned look.

"Ah, nothing, Cas," Dean stammered out.

"Dean was just calling for some _heavenly meat_" Sam could hardly keep the teasing out of his voice.

"I'm afraid I do not understand," Cas stated, searching Dean's face for an answer.

"He's just being a dumb-ass, Cas, what's up?" Dean said expectantly, cruising right into the next subject. He took a big bite of his burger and put on his listening attentively face.

"I need to lay low for a while, on Earth," Cas shyly lowered his gaze, "Raphael's sending angels out to kill me." Cas looked up and met Sam's eyes, furrowed with concern, then Dean's, open with fear, his mouth slacked mid-chew. "We need to get back to Bobby's and angel proof."

"Let's get a doggie bag." Dean snapped into action mode, dropped his burger on his pile of fries and rubbed the sesame seeds off his rough palms. Sam nodded in silent agreement and waved down their server.

* * *

"That should ward them off," Cas said, "I changed one symbol. So I can zap in, as you say, but no one else can." Dean set down his paint brush, "that's it?"

"Well, no," Cas looked worried, "it also says that I'm here." He gave Dean a knowing look. Cas could see it, Dean realizing the danger, looking inward, seeing what it would mean if an angel found the place. It would become a battleground. Dean met Cas' gaze, obviously trying to hide the fear that caused his chest to tighten, giving off such strong vibrations of distress that Cas felt compelled to comfort him in some way, anyway, that would ease his tension. "Dean," Cas spoke affectionately as he walked across the room towards Dean. But when he was close enough to offer physical comfort, Dean's cell rang from his pocket.

"Hello?" Dean answered it, turning slightly away from Cas.

"Chuck? God damn-" Dean fell silent.

'"Dean? What is it?" Cas was starting to get worried. The look on Dean's face was not good.

"Ok." Dean lowered the phone from his ear, avoiding Cas' intense curiosity.

"It's Chuck. He, um, has something to tell you." Dean reached the phone out to him. Cas took it out of his hand and placed it up to his ear.

"Cas? Are you there?" Chuck sounded frantic.

"Yes, Chuck, what have you to tell me?"

"Cas, you're in danger. Raphael's rogue, he's found you. Or, he will. If he hasn't yet. I had a vision, of where he's going to land. You can cut him off, if you get there in time."

"Cas, we're coming with you," Sam said, shaking his fist with emphasis. Dean, who was leaning against the table with his arms crossed, knew better than to insist on tagging along with an angel but stared at Cas so intently with pissed off eyes that he was making the angel shift nervously.

"Sam, I'd just be putting you in the direct path of a pissed off angel, no, it's not going to happen."

"He's right, Sammy, we can't fight this angel," Dean released his gaze off Castiel, who's tense shoulders relaxed with a soft exhale, "but _at least_," Dean clenched his jaw and looked at the angel with a plead in his heart, "we can make sure our angel comes home."

"Alright," Cas smiled softly and took in a deep breath, "I can allow that." Dean breathed in deeply, "glad that's settled then." He smiled cheekily at Sammy before grabbing a beer from the fridge.

"Well, ah, Chuck said dawn so-" Sammy started to say before Castiel cut in, "approximately five forty-five am."

"Right," Sammy said as he edged out of the kitchen, "better get some sleep."

"Right on, brother man." Dean raised his beer and Sammy just gave him a weird look before heading upstairs, but Dean knew his brother's smiles well, even if they were hidden.

"Dean, this will be unnecessarily dangerous for you and your brother."

"Cas," Dean breathed, too tired to protest more.

"No, Dean, I feel obligated to inform you," Cas circled to face Dean, "if this angel has been trained by Raphael, he will be more skilled than you've seen. You are defenseless."

"Yeah, well, I'm not going to let you go up against him alone."

"You can't protect me Dean," Cas whispered, sympathetically, as he warmed into Dean's personal space.

"Okay, I can't. But, I can't sit here and wonder if you'll come back."

"Dean..." Cas trailed off, for once not knowing what to say. How could he tell this stubborn, foolhardy man that he will come back? Looking deep through his eyes, Cas couldn't make a promise he didn't intend to keep, essentially a lie, to the trust he sensed in Dean's soul.

"Just, don't fly off tonight, okay?" Dean implored, his lips parted and Cas saw the tip of his tongue wet them, how perfectly berry colored they were, round and soft, then Dean's adam apple bobbed, the muscles in his neck tightened, and his chest expanded tight against his plain black t-shirt.

"You should get some rest, Dean Winchester."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck and turned away, "yeah," he took a long sip of beer, "that'd be nice."

* * *

"Where's Cas?" Sam said as he folded into the passenger side of the Impala.

"Gone."

"What do you mean gone?!" Sam leaned forward aggressively, trying to read the lines in Dean's face.

"He's gone, Sam, like poof. Just...gone." Dean said the last word softly, barely audible. They passed under a streetlamp and sam could see small tears forming in Dean's red-rimmed eyes. The Impala started up with her familiar purr and Dean stepped on the gas.

"Dean, I'm sorry..." Sam's voice trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"Yeah well that damn angel was always leaving us." Dean choked through, his eyes sternly focused on the double yellow.

"Do you, do you think he's," Sam paused and swallowed hard, "dead?"

Dean paused, his lips pursed into a tight line. His expression softened, opened up to one of numbed grief, "I don't know Sammy. I don't know. There...there was a lot of blood." Sam nodded to himself, recoiling back into the seat and into his thoughts.

* * *

"He's been moping around here all week like he got dumped at the prom, Bobby."

"Well tell him to shape up and keep doing research!"

"I tried, but he just drinks beer and watches Chuck Norris movies. Its-"

"Lazy!" Bobby cuts in, "put him on the phone, maybe I can talk some sense into him." Sam lets out a big sigh as he hold the phone to his plaid chest, "Dean. Dean!"

"What?!" Dean slurs from the living room.

"Bobby!"

Dean grunts his way out of his slump on the saggy couch. He grabs the phone away from Sam. Sam rolls his eyes and slumps himself into a retro chair at the kitchen table, pretending to continue reading an old dusty book full of lore and gore. Dean glared at him and Sam reluctantly focused his gaze on the faded text.

"Better be something good, Bobby." he turned his back to Sam and lowered his tone.

"Yeah, it's a wake up call, get off your ass and do your _job_!"

Dean looked at Sam behind his shoulder, Sam was peeking at him intently over the top of his book. "Bobby, I-"

"Moping around like a girl, Seriously, Dean, that hunt was over three months ago. You keep saying you're _fine_ and then act obviously _not_ fine."

"Bobby!" Dean bristled, "I _am_ fine! I'm fine! If I say I'm fine, then I am," he said gruffly, with a wide gesture of the arm.

"Dean-" Sam pleaded behind him, but Dean just rolled his shoulder and didn't turn to meet his eyes, Sam knew he was shrugging him off. Dean could feel the sad puppy look he, and every other person on the planet, could not refuse on his back.

"Yeah I've heard it before, not just from you, Dean, I'm not _new_ to hunters _losing_ someone they care about." Dean's stiff posture lost some of its rigid aggressiveness at the truth being thrown in his face.

"Dean, I'm sorry you lost Cas, we're all feeling it too. Hell, I was just beginning to like the guy, and he goes and disappears on us. But, hey, there's more monsters out there and people that need their asses saved. We just, we just don't give up on them. Not after all this, after everything we've already done. Nearly get our asses handed to us," he stopped to chuckle softly, "Dean are you hearing me?"

"Yeah, Bobby, I hear you."

"Okay. I think I can help you narrow your research down a little bit. I visited the morgue and the mortician said the body was cremated by the family, but he saw the shape it was in. Claw marks, big ones."

"You think it was a hell hound?"

"That'd be my best guess."

"Okay, then, so what's a hell hound doing in Britton, South Dakota?"

"I'm gonna figure it out! Jeez! I want you and Sam to find out if there's something here that would attract a demon. Idjit."

"All right Bobby, I'll get Sam right on it."

"Dean-" Bobby's voice was cut out when Dean slammed the phone down on its holder.

"So, what did he say?" Sam didn't wait to say or bother to hide his obvious eagerness.

"Nothing, just that he thinks its a hell hound."

"Oh, what's a hell hound doing in Britton, South Dakota?"

"That's what we have to find out. I guess figure out if there's a reason, like-"

"Dean. Um-"

"Sammy, I _don't_ want to talk about _Cas_. Just, let's focus on the case and help Bobby."

"No, but-"

"_Sammy! _If you say Cas' name, I swear to God, I will break your nose."

"Dean. Stop. Turn around," Sam said sternly and made a spinning motion with his finger.

"What, Sam, stop doing that." Dean said but Sam just started doing it faster and staring at him with frustration.

"Dean." A low voice, one he knew so well by the warmth that flowed through him when he heard it. It sounded more rough than usual. Dean's eyes went wide, searching Sam's face, who was looking at him like _Dean, I told you so._

"Cas?" Dean hadn't even dared to turn around but peered over his shoulder, scared to see if it was really him.

"Dean. I've been looking for you," Cas said steadily. Dean spun around, his head suddenly red and his eyes blurred with hot tears. "Looking for us? We've been looking for you! You were gone, Cas, just like that." Dean held his posture stiff and straight, getting into Cas' personal space like he has so many times to him.

"Dean, I'm sorry. It wasn't my fault."

"I thought you were dead, Cas." Dean searched Cas' azure eyes, hiding back a deep sadness with simmering anger.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Cas said softly, letting his voice drift away on Dean's name, finally realizing the lines in Dean's face were full of worry and grief.

"I've been searching for you, Dean, I've been hitting all the towns I think you'd hit. I can't find you, obviously, because of the symbols I carved in your ribs. But if I get near enough, I can search for my Grace in you," Cas quickly flicked his earnest gaze to Dean's lips, "however, the rogue angel is still out there." He finally noticed Sam, standing behind Dean and intensely listening with a dumb look on his striking face. "Sometimes I've also had to stay out of sight. I wounded him, enough to get away." Dean searched Cas face and relaxed at finding the truth, as he always does with Cas. Dean stared at Cas with a look of relief and exhaustion about him.

"I finally caught up with Bobby, and he referred me to here." Cas focused back on Dean and put his hand on his shoulder, where he left his mark, "Dean, you don't look wel-" but before Cas could study him for the obvious defects Dean rushed into him, grabbing Cas' opposite shoulder in a strong grip, feeling how solid he was. Cas was rapidly searching the calm expression on Dean's face, not backing out of the embrace, his face so close to Dean's he could smell the sweet scent of whiskey on his breath. Dean licked his lips, studying how Cas' soft pale lips parted in a sharp intake of air.

"Cas, I," Dean barely whispered.

"What?" Cas seriously wanted to know.

"I thought you were dead. And," Dean paused, "I never got to," he closed his eyes, "just one thing," and leaned his lips into Cas', deep but dry, gripping his shoulder with surprising strength.

"Oh, gross!" Sam exclaimed loudly and shielded his eyes, "Cas, I'm glad you're back but I didn't need to see this!"

"Shut up Sam!" Dean snapped, but beamed at Cas as he leaned away. His grip lessened on Cas' shoulder, yet a strong tingle lingered inside of Cas like he has never felt before. Dean's smile radiated from his green eyes, and Cas couldn't help but grin back. It was intoxicating, that spontaneous smile, and Cas wanted to see it more often, he was sure of that at least.


End file.
